Wicked: A New Take on Life
by Raislynn
Summary: <html><head></head>When a Witch leaves his family, he decides to settle in Lima. These are his adventures with other Gleeks who happen to be Supernaturals as well.</html>


"I want to leave; I want to go explore the town. We've been living here for nearly a month, and I don't know anyone. What if everyone thinks we are a family of recluses, or worse, hermits?" The young male stared down his mother, Macha Hawthorn, with all the fury he could muster. The woman stared back at her son, seeing so much of herself in him that it was almost unsettling. "For the last time Morrigan, you are not leaving this house. You want to learn human history, and take human classes, and your father and I are perfectly fine with that. You can do that all from our new home. I don't want what happened at the last school to happen here."

She turned and walked out of the room, her soft orange dress billowing out behind her. Crying out in frustration, the eighteen year old lashed out with his power, causing the door to slam shut and shake the wall. He hated it when his mother treated him like a child. It had been this way since he had turned eighteen six months prior. At his Declaration Ceremony, the fully fledged Witch had stood before his entire family and their own local coven and named the magic he wished to specialize in. None of them had been surprised when he had chosen Elemental Magic. They had all flown into a rage when it had come time to recite his Oath of Intention, and he had Declared himself for the Dark. Every member of his family, cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even grandparents, were Light, not a single member of the Hawthorn line had ever Declared themselves to the Dark, but he had.

Now Morrigan stood in the middle of his room, fuming and trying to quiet the flames that welled up within him. He would not give in to the rage and unstable emotions that were often associated with Dark Witches. Instead he would calm himself down. At once, music began to flow from every corner of the room, and with it, Morrigan began to sing.

_Look at you, as fragile as a flower  
>Still a little sapling, just a sprout<br>You know why we stay up in this tower  
>To keep you safe and sound.<br>Guess I always knew this day was coming  
>Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest<br>Soon, not yet, trust me pet  
>Mother knows best.<em>

Morrigan sneered the last line to the reflection in his mirror. Focusing his magic on the glass, his features changed into an image of his mother. He continued singing, the face of Macha Hawthorn wearing the boy's own trademark scowl.

_Mother knows best  
>Listen to your mother<br>It's a scary world out there  
>Mother knows best<br>One way or another  
>Something will do wrong<br>I swear._

His intentions began to change, instead of singing; he knew what he could do. He could leave. He was an adult, and no spells that his mother, father, sister could cast would be able to keep him there. Morrigan moved around his room, gathering up his essentials. Casting a spell he had learned as a child, Morrigan shrank his belongings to fit them in his bag, before shrinking his bag and attaching it to the golden chain he wore around his wrist. He wrapped up his Book of Shadows and packed it up in the special traveling case his grandmother had made him before her death the year before. Wrapping a heavy traveling cloak around his shoulders to ward off the October chill, Morrigan threw his window wide open and faced the rosy dusk. His broom of rowan wood and willow twigs jumped to his outstretched hand, thrumming with anticipation. The young witch launched from the window, swinging the broom underneath him and soaring over the perfectly manicured gardens of their family home. The barrier around the property parted around his fleeing form for the last time, sealing itself once he was safely beyond. "Goodbye Columbus, I never got to know you, but I'm sure I would have hated you."

Two hours later, Morrigan is sitting in a hotel room and going through the provisions he brought with him. A week's worth of clothing, enough money to reserve his hotel room for the same week, and a few magical necessities. "I should have thought this through." The young witch hangs his head and sighs. _Maybe I can set up in a consignment shop, selling charms and other crap._ Looking up, a wicked smile graces Morrigan's pink lips. Why sell his spells, when he can simply cast them? Removing his Grimoire from its protective case, he flips through the pristine pages until he finds a spell that looks promising. "To Captivate the Lesser Races." Setting the book onto the bed, he digs through his pack, finding a small leather pouch and filling it with powdered gold, a small rose quartz heart, a pinch of sea salt, and a few down feathers from a white-necked raven. Binding the bag, he begins to chant, focusing his magic on the small pouch and watching it glow as the spell is completed. Returning the Book to its case, Morrigan places the sachet on the bed and quickly strips down, readying himself for bed. Tomorrow, he is going to find someone to work his Charme on, and then he is going to find a permanent solution to his living situation.

Morning came with a surge of solar energy and a strange empty feeling in Morrigan's chest. Ignoring the dull ache, Morrigan dressed in casual clothing. Black jeans that hugged his legs, a white tank top beneath a black sweater, and a pair of black chucks. He tucked the sachet into his pocket, and gathered his belongings into his bag, slinging his broom over his shoulder; the witch left his room and walked out into the sunlight.

Down on the street, Morrigan hovered along, feet dangling inches over the pavement as he flew along with the morning traffic. As he passed the local coffee shop, Morrigan could feel the distinct presence of another of his kind, as well as several other non-humans. Each one was different, a Shifter, a Siren, and a Fae, all within close proximity of one another, not something he had ever encountered before. He rose over the traffic and descended in the parking lot of the café, carrying his boom into the building with him. HE spotted them all immediately, sitting at a table to themselves. The shifter was tall, muscular, his dark hair shaven into a mohawk. He smelled like a wolf. The Witch was Mexican, with ebony locks and a curvaceous body. Beside her was a mousey girl in Mary-Jane's, knee-highs, a pleated skirt, and a sweater with a unicorn on it. She was obviously the Siren. Beside her was a human male, followed by female of the same species, and then was the Fae. He was thin, pale, with chestnut waves that were styled perfectly, and golden eyes that seemed to stare out at everything at once. The tips of his ears had a slight point, not too prominent to suggest he was full Sidhe, but he was of Noble descent.

Morrigan made his way over and joined the table, taking the only open seat, between the Shifter and the Fae. He looked directly at the witch of the group. "Merry meet, Sister, may I join you?" He received a look that he could not place. "Who the hell are you, and why are you interrupting my morning coffee?" Taken aback, Morrigan's eyes narrowed at the girl. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed. There is no need to be so uncouth." Standing, he made his way from the group and into the line.

Five minutes later he was walking out of the shop with a caramel latte in hand, and sitting on his broom in the parking lot. "I hope she grows into a Hag. How rude, to lack manners so." He was deep in thought and startled by a light tap to his shoulder. His broom spun him around to look at the Shifter and the Fae. The smaller of the two spoke up, his voice light and airy, kindness rolling off of him in waves. "We're sorry about Santana; she has this thing about other witches. I'm Kurt, and this is my boyfriend, Noah." Morrigan's gaze flicks between the Fae and the Shifter. "Morrigan, I'm new in town. I just felt one of my own kin and thought I'd introduce myself." He extends his hand, Kurt taking it, and then Noah. "I take it that since you were sitting with humans, you all go to an integrated school? Do they help home-schooled witches enroll?"

Kurt and Noah exchange a look before the shifter speaks up. "I'm not sure. None of the witches that go to school have ever been home-schooled." The idea itself is a shock to Morrigan. He has only lived with his family, with his Clan, tutored by senior witches, and trained by the Adepts in the ways of magic."Where is your school? Perhaps if I explain my situation, they will be willing to help me." Kurt cocks his head to the side. "What exactly is your situation?" With a shrug, the witch smiles. "I left home for the first time last night. I can pass my state exams, but I thought it was time for me to venture out on my own." Noah nods, as if understanding how he feels. They give him the address before heading off to a black Navigator together.

Morrigan rises into the air, letting the air roll across his form. Pulling a scarf from his bag, he wraps it around his throat. Closing his eyes, Morrigan reaches to the power inside of his core, uncurling it from its tightly contained position. With ease, he accesses the part of himself that is connected to the Air, whipping up a powerful breeze to carry him to the school. He lands on the front stairs a few minutes later, looking up at the red and tan building with a strange sense of foreboding. Taking a deep breath, he opened the front doors and took his first step toward his new life.


End file.
